


Ice Creams

by Persiflage



Series: Makeouts Are Mandatory [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Beaches, Director Daisy Johnson, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Ice Cream, Kissing, Makeouts are Mandatory, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Quintuple Drabble, Vacation, swim wear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:11:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9949760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Daisy and Phil are enjoying a beach vacation with ice cream and makeouts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [tqpannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/gifts).



> Written for Skyepilot and tqpannie for the 'Makeouts are Mandatory':Cousy Mini Drabble-a-thon for the prompt 'ice cream'.

"Daisy!" Phil's outraged cry makes her giggle unrepentantly, her fingers over her mouth, as he struggles to cope with her kissing him when she's just finished eating a very cold ice cream.

"You're for it now, young lady," he says in a threatening tone, then swallows down the last of his own cone. 

She laughs joyously, then bolts away from him, and he chases her immediately. They pound along the deserted beach, both of them dressed in swimwear, and she wonders what kind of picture they make: Phil's hair is all grey now – what little he still has left, and it's obvious he's no longer young. The metal band where his prosthetic joins his stump is probably very noticeable to someone who doesn't know him. It'll be clear to any hypothetical watcher that she's considerably younger than him, though Daisy herself is no longer as young as she was: she's 3 years away from 40, and has been Director of SHIELD for 3 years.

Phil catches her as she twists around to look back at him, his left arm wrapping around her waist, and he pulls her towards him, but their momentum tumbles them to the sand.

"Oof," she says, the wind knocked out of her.

"You're a wicked woman, Daisy Johnson," he tells her in a mock-stern tone.

She laughs breathlessly. "But you love me anyway."

"Hmm." He pretends to ponder the idea, and she laughs again, then rolls him onto his back, straddling his body. His eyes go wide, and she leans down to kiss him: their mouths are still chilly, but no longer ice cold.

"Daisy." He groans quietly, and she chuckles, then nips at his bottom lip: his cock's thickening nicely inside his tight swimming trunks, and that gives her a thrill. She rocks her body over his, aware that her sex is growing hot and wet.

"I'm not fucking you here," he says firmly. "Private beach or no private beach."

She pouts a bit, then gets back to her feet before offering him a hand and tugging him up. "You're no fun." She doesn't mean it, of course – but she's curious to see how he'll react.

He snorts. "Because fucking on a beach and getting sand in all the worst possible places is such fun," he says.

She laughs. "Okay, you win, mister."

He pulls her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly. "I promise that when we get back to the safehouse, I'll fuck you six ways to Sunday."

She laughs again, pushing him away a little. "I love you," she says, and his face goes all soft, as it always does when she says that.

"I love you, too," he says, then kisses her again, quick and hard. "Last one back cooks dinner." He pushes her away from him, then takes off, and for a moment she's too shocked to respond, then she races after him. It's not a fair race, but he loves cooking for her so she knows he won't mind losing.


End file.
